


Death Unexpected

by ForeverNerd93



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kurosaki Ichigo Needs a Hug, Kurosaki Ichigo-centric, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Turn Back the Pendulum Arc, Time Travel, Turn Back the Pendulum Arc, Your plot is mine now Kubo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverNerd93/pseuds/ForeverNerd93
Summary: Funny enough, it was a human that ended his life.For all his reflexes and battle experience against monsters looking to tear apart the fabric of reality, he didn't see the bullet from the kid looking for enough money to eat.
Comments: 54
Kudos: 178





	1. Shot in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> *throws fic into the void*  
> Thanks to @midnightselphie for going over it before I got the nerve to post!  
> Yes, it's graphic and small.  
> Yes, there is more to this, a lot more. Characters, etc. Will be tagged appropriately as this goes on.  
> No pairings, I cant do romantic interactions to save my life. 
> 
> I hope it's not awful and evokes some sort emotion in you.

Funny enough, it was a human that ended his life.

For all his reflexes and battle experience against monsters looking to tear apart the fabric of reality, he didn't see the bullet from the kid looking for enough money to eat. It ripped through his chest, irreparable damage to the soft organs just behind the cage of his ribs. He doesn't register what has happened at first, breath punched out of him, eyes going wide in shock. He turns his head and sees the kid, no older than he was when his view of the world shifted, tears carving tracks through grime-covered cheeks. He chokes on the first inhale as blood floods his airway, only seconds have elapsed but it feels like minutes as he crumples to the asphalt of the dark parking lot. Stone and sand cut into his cheek, the contents of his bag scatter like dice on a tabletop. His heart valiantly spasms in his chest, one of the chambers shredded, his body twitches, nervous system overloaded as the brain registers the damage. He coughs on a watery exhale tastebuds coated with sticky copper when the pain hits. It overwhelms everything, his vision blurs and he hears a deafening ring long and drawn out, the tolling of death's bell. He fights for every breath, the watercolor kid jogs over, choking out meaningless apologies through his own tears as he goes through Ichigo's pockets.

The kid is rambling his fingers shaking against the pins and needles of his waist, something about initiation and family and-

His heart, the studdering gallop it fought to maintain, seizes, and stops. His body flexes in one last burst of movement, curling in on itself with one last choked attempt to breathe. The pain vanishes, the ringing clears then the watercolors go black. By the time a cacophony of sirens and red-yellow-blue light up the blood-soaked asphalt in a flashing beacon of hope, Ichigo isn't there to see it.


	2. Our Story Is Just Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, here's chapter two. Hopefully, it's not as awful as I think it is. Definitely more than 300 words though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so so much to @CheshireCain for giving my lil chapter a once over! 
> 
> All mistakes are mine. 
> 
> *yeet*

It’s warm but not uncomfortably so, with clear skies and a modest breeze. Smoke drifts in ribbons from the pipe cradled in her hand, the gentle sounds of her livestock settling down for the day, and just for a moment, she basks in the peace she has here. 

The skin of her right shoulder tingles in alarm, with a startled grunt she levers herself off the chair and walks around to the back with the tips of her fingers glowing with faint sparks of kidou.

There’s a young man, stumbling toward her in the strangest clothing she has ever seen, covered in blood with a shock of orange hair and obvious confusion written across his face. He stops and steadies himself against the trunk of a tree, eyes wide and lost, breath coming in harsh pants. 

“Hello, I’m sorry to disturb you at your own home but I don’t- I’m not-”

His face scrunches in frustration, nostrils flaring on a deep inhale and visibly eases off his rising panic. It’s a look she knows well, all new souls wear it but it’s easier to let the boy work through it, far less work for her. 

“I woke up in this forest and I don’t know how I got here, or where _ here _ even is.” He pauses to look down and pluck at his-  _ what are those?  _ \- colorful tops. “I’m- covered in blood. I don’t know why- I can’t remember why-” Ah, there’s the panic. “I don’t remember.  _ Why can’t I remember anything? _ ”

The longer he talks, the more distressed he begins to sound and well, she doesn’t deal in needless suffering anymore. She takes a long bracing pull from her pipe, absentmindedly rubbing her thumb against the smooth grain of the wood.

_ Soul King grant me patience.  _

“Kid, that’s enough.” She steps forward, approaching him like one would a wild animal, and comes to a stop within arms reach. Gently, she places her free hand on the forearm he has braced against the tree. It gets his attention, and he focuses on her for what is probably the first time since he started talking. 

_ This is fascinating, it is so bright and colorful and soft but it is not made of silk.  _

“Congratulations, you’re dead. Welcome to Soul Society, Northern Rukongai and a good two day walk to the nearest town. I’m Tanaka Kyoko, you said you remembered your name?”

He pales and he stares off into the distance, searching for memories that are no longer there. 

“Boy!” 

He startles, a full-body flinch that makes her eyes narrow and her lips thin. She gives him a gentle squeeze, trying to keep him in the here and now.

“Oh, sorry ah all I remember is- My name is Ichigo. Just Ichigo, I can’t- I don't remember anything else.” Ichigo hunches slightly, wary and defensive in a way new souls usually aren’t. Tense and ready to lash out at a moment's notice.

“Well, Ichigo, you  _ are _ dead, there is no need for memories of a life you will never return to.” She pats his forearm absently as she gives him another once over before turning and walking toward the front of her cabin. She never has been one for formalities and social niceties. 

“Now, you are offensively filthy and I have a trough of water that you can use to clean up in, it’s just on the other side of my house here. While you do that I’ll try to muster up some clothing for you.”

When she doesn’t hear him follow she stops and turns back. Ichigo hasn’t moved, obviously struggling with everything, and her mild frustration at having her quiet evening shattered begins to boil over. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Ichigo.”

Ichigo finally snaps back to himself and, after a cursory glance at the trees as if looking for something or someone, he falls into place behind her as she continues forward. Were she a lesser being, the predator at her back would make her wary, as it stands it makes the space between her shoulder blades itch. The trough itself is just off her deck, she leaves him there with only a vague gesture and hears him shuffle to a stop in the dirt.

She takes another pull on her pipe, exhaling her irritation in one long breath. She knew he would be powerful, but this- she’s going to need to reinforce her barriers. The air  _ vibrates _ with his power, the pressure on the seals is enough for her joints to ache. 

She turns and makes her way into her cabin, cursing the Soul King as she goes. It is not the first time, and most certainly won’t be the last. It doesn’t take long for her to get into the spare room and the contents she had been _ compelled _ to acquire. Grabbing the clothing and a pair of sandals, she walks through the front door and lightens her footsteps to appear silently at Ichigo’s side. 

He jerks away, a curse on his lips only to fall into the trough. Kyoko grins, more of a bearing of teeth, and huffs in amusement. 

“Your situational awareness is atrocious, you now get to clean and refill that tomorrow.”

Ichigo splutters in indignation and climbs out. His clothing soaked, having stained the water pink, he lifts his arms away from his body looking like a drenched cat. 

“I’m not the one who just appeared out of thin air!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t want to hear it. Hurry up and get dressed, there will be some food for you when you’re finished.”

Before he can respond, she drapes the fresh clothing over the railing surrounding her deck and walks back to her cabin. She doesn’t see the childish incredulity, or the rude gesture he tosses in her direction before taking off his wet shirt revealing the scars beneath it. Upon reaching the threshold Kyoko pauses and looks back, taking in the map of battles won etched into his skin. Something like horror skitters across her skin before she ruthlessly pushes the feeling aside and continues forward. 

It doesn’t take long to get some tea, dried meat, rice, and a smattering of vegetables from her garden, pulled together. She sets it out on the small table and places a space cushion on the other side. She lets her mind wander as she retrieves and then fidgets with a small folding fan and remembers the flashes, the visions she received while training up her replacement, ultimately leading to her early  _ retirement _ . While this child is who she has been waiting for; she was not prepared for the monstrous reiatsu that settles in her clearing with her barriers struggling under the strain.

She was not prepared for a Shiba powerhouse, he is without a doubt a Shiba, but his shock of orange hair is something no one has seen in the noble bloodline. 

_ I wonder if his heritage will hinder him in his destined role when the time comes. _

Her charge, and future headache, cautiously steps into her little home with a light knock on the door frame. He looks far better without the layer of blood and dirt clinging to his skin, but his eyes are wide emphasizing just how young he is. To her surprise, the clothing seems to fit him perfectly and he seems to have figured out the clothing with no issue. 

_ Shame, helping them figure out and then get caught in their clothing is always amusing.  _

“Come, child, sit down before the food gets cold.” 

Kyoko doesn’t bother to curb her sharp and demanding tone. She is and always will be a teacher and Third Seat of the onmitsukidou, nothing will change or take that from her. 

Well, maybe her blonde little protege, Shihoin favored, might be able to find her in time should he pair up with the gifted kidou user. 

The boy, Ichigo she remembers belatedly, nods, and sits down tucking into the food like a starved animal. She watches him slowly release the tension in his shoulders, pushing forward to repeat the answers to his asked and unasked questions. 

“Listen closely, I’m not going to repeat myself more than once. My name is Tanaka Kyoko, again, congratulations on joining us here in Soul Society. You landed yourself in what’s called no-mans-land outside the safety of the designated districts of Northern Rukongai. My home is a two-day walk to the nearest village” 

She pauses and lifts her hand to silence Ichigo when she sees the questions forming on his face; he’s expressive and Kyoko isn’t quite sure if she likes that or not. Either way, she’s going to enjoy beating it out of him. She snaps open her fan, gently working a breeze over her skin. 

“Why you landed here, so close to my home-” she pauses to shake her head, fingers flexing over the spine of the fan “I can’t tell you, I’m not omnipotent. What I can tell you is this; every soul contains various amounts of reiryoku. Most contain so little, they don’t feel hunger and thus aren’t a target for hollows. Souls who fell to... corruption before passing on and feed on both other hollows and souls. Though they usually stay in Hueco Mundo”

“Okay, so, I- I have this reiryoku, why does this matter? If they are in this Hueco Mundo place?” There’s a piece of meat caught in his chopsticks hovering just in front of his mouth, eyes narrowed slightly. His question more important than his food for the moment. 

“You, Ichigo, have such a vast amount that leaving my clearing will make you a beacon for hollows, and I suspect that the lower souls would suffocate under the weight of your presence.” 

Alright, the latter half of that statement is most definitely a lie but Ichigo doesn’t need to know that. It will keep him here. Kyoko snaps her fan closed, and Ichigo resumes eating, thankfully, slower this time.

“Not only that, but you will also draw the attention of the military force that protects the Soul Society and the Living world as a whole. They are called the Gotei 13; their main goal is to keep the balance between all 3 dimensions. However, they also protect themselves and the upper districts nearest them.”

Kyoko takes a sip of her cold tea-  _ damn it _ \- and watches Ichigo.

_ This is the most I’ve spoken in dearly a decade now, were it not so tedious I’d miss it.  _

“Why- I don’t understand. I just woke up why would I- I haven’t done anything. Why would they care about me? I don’t even know why I was covered in blood with no wounds! So I have a lot of this reiryoku stuff, I  _ didn’t ask for this!  _ I’m covered in scars and I don’t know where they came from!”

Ichigo stops suddenly curling in on himself slightly, shaking, breath coming in smaller and smaller pants. His brows furrow, his mouth turning down into a harsh frown, the few specs of rice stuck to the bottom of his bowl take the full weight of his confusion and mounting frustration. Briefly, it becomes hard to breathe, his displeasure pressing down on everything inside her barriers.

“You exist outside of their purview. You are dangerous because you have this power that you don’t understand, that they don’t understand and as such you are a threat. Right now, you are safe inside my protection. I am hidden from their view through a weave of kidou that keeps me hidden from hollows and the Gotei. I left my post as an officer over a decade ago and they don’t take people leaving all that well.”

Ichigo’s eyes snap to her face, lips thinning. 

“Why’d you leave.”

It’s not a question, Kyoko smothers a laugh, for a moment the man in her visions overlays the young- so very young- boy and the commander he will become shines through.

“My reasons are my own, I’ll tell you if or when I decide to. I do know that I am the only person, for now, that will be able to help you in controlling your reiryoku and reiatsu output. Granted, this doesn’t come for free but you also don’t have much of a choice. All I ask is that you help me maintain my property.”

Kyoko brings the fan up to her mouth, tapping it against her upper lip and focusing her gaze on the rapidly setting sun. This took far longer than she wanted it to. She doesn’t see Ichigo tense, face paling, eyes wide with his fists clenched on the table. She does, however, feel the spike of emotion in his reiatsu and returns her attention to him. 

“What’d you see Ichigo?” 

“I might- I think I knew someone who did that once. I don’t- I don’t know why.”

Kyoko sighs, of course, he would remember pieces of his previous life, she’s had enough for today _ thank you very much _ . 

“Don’t worry about it too much Ichigo. Help me clean up and I’ll get you to my spare room.”

She watches him nod, lost in thought, and they work in silence, not quite awkward but not quite comfortable. She’s not surprised with how much information she’s dumped on him, she has most definitely had enough for today. 

It doesn’t take long for them to clean up. After all, hot water and scrub are all that can be done to the bowls. Ichigo follows sedately behind her, the setting sun drawing out the days shadows while painting the walls in shades of orange and red. The room is small, a bedroll and a single oil lamp, there’s a small chest in one corner and a window with a rice paper shade. Kyoko gestures him into the room, she can see the exhaustion pulling on his shoulders. 

“Get some sleep, Ichigo, I’ll wake you at dawn.”

She turns to leave, only for Ichigo to call out from where he stands in the center of the room. 

“Thank you Tanaka-san, for everything.”

Kyoko just nods and slides his door closed before turning and walking away. She makes her way out of the house, stopping to grab her pipe from where she left it on the table. She never said she had manners; assassination and detention detail rarely called for them. 

Once outside, she refills her pipe from the small box attached to a support post for the overhang of her deck and just watches the sun fall beneath the horizon. With each smoky exhale the frustration over the noose around her neck fades. 

_ Damn the Soul King to the lowest levels of hell.  _

She pulls at her top, the seal of the Soul King sits innocently on the flesh just above her left breast. Not that anyone other than her can see it. She huffs once, letting the rage blow through her before moving past her like the winds of a storm. 

She has work to do.


	3. Chicken

Ichigo wakes to the warm light of the morning sun settling over his face, a petulant groan rattling his chest. He rolls over, determined to follow the siren song of sleep, and adjusts his blanket over his shoulders with a sigh. He drifts on the edge of consciousness, relaxed in the cocoon of safety under his blankets. He doesn’t hear the staccato of wings of a bird landing on the open windowsill, the crunch of talons as they take hold of the softwood. He’s unprepared for the almost demonic screech and violently jerks upright, his legs becoming tangled as he scrambles away from the noise. 

“What the hell!” 

He whips around to stare at the creature, heart racing in his chest and is promptly horrified. Its feathers are a flat black, a shadow that seems to swallow sunlight, eyes a bright red that focus on Ichigo like a predator after its prey. Horror falls away to disbelief and agitation. 

“It’s a chicken. It’s a  _ fucking chicken _ .”

That doesn’t, however, stop his full-body flinch when the bird flares it’s wings and makes the same distorted scream. Ichigo attempts to get to his feet only for his blankets to, once again, send him sprawling in an undignified heap on the floor. The chicken makes a sound akin to laughter before turning and leaping off its perch, leaving the same way it came. 

For a long moment, Ichigo just stares at where the _ chicken _ once stood, incredulous and shakey. He takes time to get his heart and breathing back under control, watching the window with something akin to betrayal. With a heaving sigh, he gets off the floor and heads to the basin of water to wipe down the sweat and grime before heading to the chest in the corner of the room and getting himself dressed for the day.

It’s as he’s securing cloth belt to this waist that Ichigo finally remembers the events of the day prior. The memories are disjointed and wrapped in a calming grey. He blinks and rolls his shoulders before tucking in the final fold and making his way to the front of the little cabin. 

Tanaka is sitting, cross-legged, on the floor a steaming cup of tea in her hands with a gleeful smirk on her face. Her silver hair is pulled into a pony-tail, and the traditional layered robes of yesterday have been traded for a simple top and slacks, a mirror of what Ichigo is wearing, both in shades of brown. 

“I see you’ve met Korn. He’s a wonderful boy isn’t he?”

“That chicken is a demon, Tanaka-san.” 

Ichigo flops down across from her, sending her a glare before setting about making himself his own cup and grabbing at the morning offerings laid out on the table. 

“He might be, I don’t really know where he came from.” She pauses to take a slow sip of her tea and then shrugs. 

“He found me, one morning I went out and he was standing just outside my chicken coup happily munching on the seed that littered the ground. Haven’t been able to chase him off and I’ve also never been able to catch him. He could be a demon, but if he is then he’s the most loyal demon chicken I’ve ever seen.” 

Tanaka reaches over to grab a piece of dried fish and a smattering of vegetables, placing them on her bowl of rice and turns her attention to her breakfast. 

“What do you mean  _ you can’t catch it _ ? You’re one of those-” Ichigo waves his chopsticks in the air. “You’ve- you were apart of that Gotei thing. Why can’t you catch it?!”

“Him not it, Ichigo. He’s not hurting anything, after a while I decided to leave him be. Though seeing him eating a mouse that had been going after my vegetables definitely earned my respect.” 

Ichigo blanches, and Tanaka can’t hold back her laughter. 

She wipes the tears from her eyes, the wrinkles on her face and around her eyes crinkling, gleeful in his fear. She levers herself up and with a wordless gesture, Ichigo follows her in clearing the table and cleaning the dishes. Tanaka dries her hands with a nearby cloth tossing at Ichigo when he finishes. Walking out of the house, she pauses to retrieve her pipe and packs it turning to Ichigo as she lights it in one practiced motion, continuing onward after a lazy exhale of smoke.

“Alright, Ichigo I need to work through feeding my livestock and tending to my garden, you can work on splitting the wood at the far end. Later I’ll show you how to care for my little flower, but for now, since I’ve got a strapping young man on hand you can take care of the heavier work.” 

Ichigo wrinkles his nose, waving a hand in front of his face before following. As they walk Ichigo takes in the rest of the little clearing, only it’s not a clearing in a forest, it’s a valley nestled between two mountains that comes to a point at what looks like a cliff. Curiously, there’s a large sandpit at the end of the valley. As they walk, he turns his head slightly to the left, there’s a fenced-in section of grass, with a- 

“Tanaka-san, that is not a small flower. First, a chicken from hell and now-” Ichigo makes a large sweeping gesture, struggling with the hilarity of it all. 

_ What is it with this woman and downplaying everything? _

Tanaka grins around the stem of her pipe and doesn’t pause and turn when Ichigo slows to a stop. 

“Nope, she was a war-horse.”

“ _ Was. _ ”

“How rude, we’re both old women in retirement, Ichigo. Now she spends most of her time lazing about in her pen under the sun, a fitting way to spend the rest of her days I think.”

They pass the pen and the shed next to it, Ichigo eyes the chicken coop from where it sits nestled just under the overhang with a small amount of malice. It’s impressive, though Ichigo doesn’t have anything to compare it to he still gets the feeling that it is. Briefly, he wonders if it should worry him. Knowing things without knowing how or why he knows. The thought drifts away like the smoke from Tanaka’s pipe in the morning breeze.

Spread along the edge of the valley, a smattering of herb and vegetable plants provide a smattering of color on the green and brown of the forest. The silence between them as they lazily make their way to the far end of the valley is companionable. He returns his focus to where Takana walks in front of him and notices a large tree stump with the woodpile behind it, an ax leaning against the stack, just to the right of an absolutely massive sandpit. 

_ Where did she get so much sand in the mountains?! _

“Okay, I’m going to show you this once Ichigo so pay attention because I will not show it to you again.” 

Ichigo looks away and walks over to the far side of the wood stack and watches as Tanaka sets down her pipe before grabbing a log and setting it upright on the stump. She doesn’t look at him as she grabs the ax with one hand, swinging it up over her head, placing her second hand on the handle with the smallest of pauses, with an almost unnoticeable flex she brings it down and cleaves the log in two. Had he not been focused on her, he would have missed the smallest glimmer of green on the blade of the ax. 

Ichigo’s eyes widen.  _ An old woman my ass.  _

The two halves of the log slowly fall with a dull thunk, the insides completely smooth. Ichigo’s eyes widen when Tanaka plants the ax head into the dirt with a casual flick of her wrist and it sinks up to the shaft. 

“Now, Ichigo I don’t expect you to get this right on the first try. So, don’t think about it too much and just go with what feels right for now.”

She bends down and tosses the split pieces off to the side then grabs her pipe and a fresh log, setting it up on the stump. Ichigo makes his way over to her side, a small furrow of contemplation between his brows. She relights her pipe, and saunters away, taking a seat on an overturned tree trunk away from the stump. He grabs at the ax, grunting when it turns out to be heavier than Tanaka made it seem. For a moment he swings the ax like a pendulum, trying to get a better feel for just how top-heavy it is. 

“Enough stalling Ichigo put your dominant hand at the bottom of the shaft and your non-dominant hand in the middle. I don’t have all day to sit here and watch you chop wood.” With the pipe in her mouth, the words are slurred but no less impatient. 

“Alright alright! I know your old but you don’t look like you’re going to collapse right this second.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, Ichigo freezes and lifts his eyes, the air has gone uncomfortably warm and heavy, screeching laughter on the wind. The air around Tanaka is oil slick green, the steady line of smoke from her slow exhale a dragons warning. 

“Chop the wood Ichigo.”

“Yes, ma’am” 

He takes a deep inhale, swings the ax up with his right hand, concentrating on mimicking what he saw. For a heartbeat, he holds the ax above his head before lifting his left and bringing the ax down on a sharp exhale. The ax blade becomes wreathed in black red fire, the log explodes when the ax connects. Ichigo is thrown back into the stack of wood, the back of his head bouncing off the stack, and chunks of the log pelt his face and torso. Static crawls under his skin, his head throbs from the impact, and his vision blurs. He doesn’t get a moment to try and work past the pain, there are claws on his chest and the sound of bellowing laughter follows him into unconsciousness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably awful but I'm not gonna kill myself anymore over this chapter.   
> If there are any inconsistencies or typos, point em out and I'll edit.   
> Many thanks to SaturnineArbiter for giving this a once-over for me!!  
> The chicken just kinda happened, I can't remember how exactly he happened. But discord happens.  
> I also start online college classes on Aug 31 so hopefully I'll still be able to keep updating at a decent pace. 
> 
> We'll get to a point where it stops being essentially day to day, but for now the foundation is still drying and my plumber is taking forever to answer my calls on my world building plans. 
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading my baby fic!!


	4. Chapter 4

She hadn’t _quite_ expected the amount of power Ichigo unknowingly put into the swing. Credit where credit is due, it was impressive. When her mirth settles, she wanders over to where Ichigo is slumped against the wood stack. Korn perches on his chest idly picking bits of wood out of his hair. 

  
  


She eyes the ax buried in the stump, the red and black fire that clings to the head. The malevolence that taints the air and settles on her shoulders. It is undeniably warped with the sandpaper-rough of Hollow and so very, _very_ , wrong. 

  
  


_A problem for a later date._

  
  


She sets her pipe down and crouches next to Ichigo. Idly stroking her fingers through black feathers as her other hand lights up with the healing green of kaido. It doesn’t take much to bring him to consciousness and take care of the headache he surely would have woken up with. His reserves are absolutely massive now that she gets a closer look. 

  
  


Briefly, that black reiatsu leaps forward like the curious fingers of a child and twines around her hand. The hair on her arm raises with unease, but as quickly as it appears, it flickers and dies. 

  
  


Ichigo wakes with a groan. She stands, grabbing her still smoking pipe as she does. 

  
  


“Congratulations Ichigo, I don’t think I’ve seen something that explosive in a very long time.”

  
  


“What?” He shifts, and Korn digs his talons into where he has settled on Ichigo’s chest. 

  
  


He yelps and freezes, eyes wide in confused fear. Korn shuffles his wings, indifferent to it all. 

  
  


“I do have to apologize,” she takes a deep pull on her pipe, “I hadn’t realized you’d be so perceptive. Knowing you for only a day, it’s a mistake that can be forgiven I think.”

  
  


In a rare show of gentle behavior, Korn preens a few more pieces of wood out of Ichigo’s hair before launching himself up to the top of the wood stack, settling like a watchful gargoyle. 

  
  


Ichigo takes the chance to stand, brushing at his clothing. 

  
  


“What the _hell_ is that ax? Why did that even happen?” He’s eying the tool like it’s going to explode on its own even where it sits embedded in the stump. 

  
  


“I _acquired_ the ax after leaving the Gotei.” she grins around an exhale of smoke, the corners of her mouth predatory and proud. “The metal is a conduit for reiatsu, as you’ve seen if you put too much into a swing you end up with explosive results.” 

Ichigo shifts on his feet looking a little uncomfortable, a little afraid, and a lot curious. 

  
  


“So, how do I- I don’t want that to happen again.” 

  
  


“Well, you’re in luck.” A short inhale and a longer exhale sends ribbons of smoke curling around her face, “I don’t want a repeat performance either. So!” 

  
  


Tanaka steps over to the stump and wrenches the ax from where it is buried in the wood, the black and red fire having faded entirely, and grabs another log. 

  
  


“While impressive, don’t focus on the swing, focus on your movements. The weight of the ax will take care of most of the work. I commend you for trying to replicate what I had done, but,” she makes a sweeping gesture with her free hand. Removing the pipe from her mouth creates an arc of white, a visual to her movements indicating the absolutely _fantastic_ explosion. 

  
  


“Okay so- how do I not do that again? I don’t get how I’m supposed to not do that again.” 

  
  


She hands him the ax, not giving him the chance to refuse it, and sets up the log. This time she doesn’t leave his side and herds him to the stump. Quietly, she guides him into the proper stance with gentle hands and hides a smile as the tension becomes tentative confidence. 

  
  


This time she only takes a step back, and when he looks at her for confirmation she just nods. Placing her pipe between her teeth, she breathes and the burn of tobacco coats her tongue. Sometimes- sometimes it is best to teach in silence, especially with just how explosive Ichigo’s first attempt was. 

  
  


With a deep breath, he takes his second swing. This time there is no reiatsu, and while uneven, the log splits and falls with a dull thunk. 

  
  


He immediately looks to her for approval and, with the smallest sinking feeling in her gut, she gives him a smile around the wood stem in her mouth. 

  
  


_He’s like a duckling. Already so very trusting._

  
  


“Alright, now that we’ve cleared that up- you get to split wood until either you run out or your arms fall off.”

  
  


His squawk of indignation at her back as she turns to leave brings a smile to her face. He doesn’t follow her which bodes well for the first day. After all, the wood stack is twice the size of Ichigo in height. Intimidating to most, but necessary.

  
  


“Tanaka-san! Hey!” 

  
  


He does take a step towards her. She can feel his uncertainty. 

  
  


“Focus on the wood Ichigo. Either way, I’ll come to get you for dinner.” 

  
  


With the wave of a hand over her shoulder, she cheats just a little and steps into shunpo before he can voice any further protests. He learns quickly, a positive against the sheer _wrongness_ of his reiatsu.

  
  


* * *

Ichigo looks down at the ax in his hand, uneasy with how volatile a mistake can be. Now though- Now he can understand what Tanaka was talking about. That reiatsu stuff, how much he has. That- Fear skitters under his rib cage. 

He doesn’t- he _knows_ he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. It’s not- it’s soul-deep - _hah_ \- that feeling, that knowledge. But for a moment- for a moment there was this vicious glee. A howling call of pride and exultant triumph. 

  
  


Ichigo- he’s not quite sure what to make of that. He _really_ doesn’t want to think about it too much. 

  
  


Tightening his grip on the handle he looks down at the almost innocent ax head, really looking at it this time. It’s a flat grey through and through. Even the blade edge shows no shine. 

  
  


If he focuses, for just a second he can see the briefest flicker of that red-black fire and hear a distorted laugh. 

  
  


He shakes himself, rolling his shoulders and feeling the ax swing in his hand and pull on his wrist. Turning back to the stump he ignores the chasm in the stump that wasn’t there before. 

  
  


With a deep rib expanding sigh he swings the ax. It splits and he breathes out the tension he hadn’t realized was there. None of that red-black fire, just the motion of the swing and the thud of wood.

  
  


_I can do this._

* * *

Tanaka goes through her daily routine, tending to her animals, plants, and equipment. It’s soothing after the last day of chaos descending on her peaceful home. A home she carved out and fought for, a decade of running and staying ahead of her own division, her own captain. 

  
  


She pauses to take a deep pull, the tobacco in the bowl glowing red, before tamping it out and setting the pipe aside. The memories burn like the smoke in her lungs and she pushes past them with a harsh exhale. 

  
  


She can imagine the twist of confused hurt and betrayal of her student, the man she trained up to be her successor. If anyone could find her, it would be that blond terror. After settling in this spot for the past year, the thought of complacency settles sour in her gut. 

  
  


The sound of chopping wood, though irregular, acts like a metronome echoing across the valley. She can’t stop grinning when Ichigo’s reiatsu inevitably flares here and there, cries of frustration and swearing that would make the eleventh division blush. 

  
  


_There’s a lot a soul subconsciously remembers, but I wonder just where this boy learned how to swear so colorfully._

  
  


She gathers a few flakes from the bale of hay under the protection of her shed, a scoop of feed grabbed as she walks over to the fenced-in pasture. 

  
  


“Good morning Kinmokusei, how’s my little flower today?”

  
  


The large and muscular war-horse gives a rumbling nicker in response, plodding over to the gate with heavy strides. She’s solid warm orange, like burnished copper, and a single white band around one hoof. 

Tanaka tosses the hay over the railing, emptying the scoop into an old water pail on the ground. As Kinmokusei dives into her feed, Tanaka checks the water trough before turning back to the shed. She grabs an upturned rake and a visibly beat-up bucket before entering the pasture and cleaning out what she can. 

  
  


In the distance, Ichigo’s reiatsu fluctuates, a disbelieving squawk punctuating the punch of power. 

  
  


Kinmokusei lifts her head, ears flickering and shifts, uneasy. Tanaka sighs and returns to the horse’s side. She sets her tools on the other side of the gate, before settling a calming hand on her neck. 

  
  


“Easy lil’ flower. He’ll get there in time. Besides,” she begins to comb her fingers through the tangles in her flower’s mane, “We need to make a run to Shiretoko. With how much this child needs to eat my stores are running low.” 

  
  


Kinmokusei doesn’t respond beyond lowering her head to continue eating. 

  
  


With a final pat to a muscled shoulder, Tanaka leaves the pasture and continues on. Hopefully, her vegetable plants have something to offer to the evening meal.

  
  


_Otherwise, we’re going to have to make do with simple meat and rice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinmokusei is an orange osmanthus, a really pretty orange flower in Japan. Also apparently, one of the meanings is "noble person" which hah, warhorse. Also, imagine a draft horse, kinda Fresian breed but bigger. 
> 
> Shiretoko is a National Park, again Japan, it's apparently one of the most beautiful and unspoiled parks and a UNESCO World Heritage site. From what I could find the landscape kinda fit what I had in my head. So there's that. 
> 
> Fun note: exactly 1600
> 
> Bale is like a bread loaf of different hay's(grasses 'n such) secured with twine, and the flakes are like a slice of bread.


	5. Winds of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd, we die like cheese. Or something like that.

The cup is warm in his hands, chasing away the final wisps of sleep. The world is cast in the blue of dawn, silent as it waits for sunrise. 

Ichigo takes a slow sip and straightens from his slouch as Tanaka walks in and settles herself at the table. She helps herself to the breakfast Ichigo had laid out earlier. The muscles in his back and shoulders _ache_ from the repetitive motions of chopping wood. His core and legs a dull throb from the exercises Tanaka had added to his daily routine. 

But, it’s _finished_. 

Twelve weeks and the pile has been split and stacked. Pride warms his chest. By the end of it, he’d mastered using the ax and using his reiatsu to aid in the process. 

Ichigo watches as she grabs a notebook from the far end of the table. The inkpot and quill precariously perched on top. With one hand she levers food into her mouth as she opens the book and preps the ink and quill with the other. 

* * *

_His muscles throb, a burning metronome under his skin. The cup of steadily cooling tea shakes in his grip. He doesn’t think he has the energy to move from his spot at the table, never mind going through the motions of eating. His clothing is covered in wood shavings, he’s pretty sure he has just as much in his hair and stuck to his skin._

_“You did good, for your first time.” Tanaka settles across from him, making up two bowls of the soup._

_Ichigo sets down his tea and grabs the offered bowl, muttering out his thanks before tucking into the meal._

_They eat in silence, he’s too tired to focus on anything other than the food in front of him. When Tanaka trades her soup for her tea, Ichigo can feel her stare. For the moment he can’t bring himself to care._

_“Everything I ask you to do is going to help you control your reiatsu. Luckily for you, not every day is going to be filled with you chopping wood. I’ve got other exercises for you to do, and information I’m going to drill into your skull. Some of it won’t make sense Ichigo.”_

_He finishes the last of his soup and looks up._

_“Okay. Well- I mean it’s not like I have anywhere I can go. I don’t-” His brow furrows as he wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want to hurt someone just by being near them, and I literally got here yesterday. So yeah, that’s fine with me.” Ichigo shrugs and grabs his tea, mercifully his hands no longer shake._

_Tanaka smiles and Ichigo pales at the sight of it._

_“Good.”_

_‘I am probably going to regret agreeing to this.’_

* * *

Ichigo arrived- well he got the impression that he was in good shape when he woke up here. Now he’s lean strength, deceptive under the baggy robes he wears on occasion, Tanaka said he was built like a long-distance runner. 

At the time, Ichigo had just shrugged and gotten back to the- she called them hakuda stances. He wasn’t sure why he needed to know how to fight, but it settled something in him. 

So, there’s that. 

Having already eaten, he sits in silence watching the sun slowly rise above the treetops. The memory of what he’d discovered this morning while dressing drifts to the surface, breaking the calm quiet of his mind. 

“Hey, Obaasan.”

“I told you not to call me that Ichigo.” Tanaka’s words are slurred around a full mouth, still focused on her book. 

Ichigo shifts, unease settling over his shoulders. 

“The scars are gone.”

She looks up, brow furrowed over narrowed eyes even as she continues chewing. 

“Well, okay, show me.”

Ichigo huffs in mock aggravation, rising from his cushion. For a second he hesitates, fingers curled around the bottom of his shirt, before shaking his head and lifting the shirt up and off. 

Tanaka hums. Ichigo fidgets, uncomfortable in the cool morning air. The staring doesn’t help. 

“That’s interesting.” She waves her chopsticks at him. “Put your shirt back on.”

Ichigo looks at her with wide eyes. “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

She’s returned to what’s left of her breakfast, relaxed and unconcerned as she dips the quill into the ink. 

Ichigo gapes like a fish then puts his shirt back on and drops back down to the table. Frustration bounces between his temples he-

He grabs his teacup, needing something in his hands. 

“Kiddo, I’ve only ever worked with established souls. I don’t know if this is normal or not.”

Ichigo looks away as tears burn his eyelids. He doesn’t know- It’s like he’s just lost a piece of himself. Some vital part of who he is- or used to be. 

“Alright. To the sandpit with you. You’ve finished the wood, now it’s time for lesson 2. I’ll clean the table, I want you warmed up by the time I get there.” 

She starts clearing the table and Ichigo- Ichigo can’t move yet caught in a whirlwind of emotions he doesn’t understand. 

“Ichigo! Now.” Her voice snaps him out of his head, he startles to his feet. 

He takes a moment to place his dishes next to the sink, walking in a haze. It’s an endless spiral of emotion, a harsh coil of _frustrationconfusionanger_ `. Ichigo steps into a run, he can feel the fire curling along his calves lashing out at an enemy that isn’t there. 

_Why would I be looking for an enemy?!_

When he reaches the sandpit, he takes a moment to look back and sees her on the porch a column of smoke drifting in the breeze. The tangle of emotion presses against his ribs and he throws himself into the stretches she taught him.

He finishes a set and he can feel her over by Kinmoukusei, he _knows_ she’s taking her time. 

His frustration and growing anger is a visible thing. Tainted red flickers around his limbs and he swallows the scream building in his throat. He moves into the hakuda stances, desperate to work out this- whatever this is. 

“Well then if you’re going to throw a tantrum, you can start running laps along the outer edge of the pit.” Her tone is dry and unamused, the smell of flowers on the wind snuffed by the burn of tobacco. 

Ichigo doesn’t question it, doesn’t even think to. The moment his feet touch the sand there’s a drag he wasn’t expecting. Then again it’s sand and his feet are sinking into the loose ground. 

For a while, the run keeps his mind quiet. The sound of his steps, of his breathing, and the increasing pace of his heart the only thing that registers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, College is- it's a lot with limited time in a day to focus on school work.  
> It's not as long as my previous chapters. But I don't want to fight it anymore and I wanted to get _something_ up for ya'll. Because holy shit. 1200 views and 94 kudos I can't- All my tears guys.  
> Thank you!  
> Famous last words: I hope to post at least once a month. Here's to hoping.


	6. Take the Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title has sort of nothing to do with this, it was stuck in my head while writing so 
> 
> Lil shorter than the others, but life do as life does.

She deliberately takes her time, meticulously brushing out Kinmokusei’s coat until it shines under the morning sun. It’s been weeks since Ichigo has lost control like this. A reprieve from the feel of sandpaper against her senses. The mare gently touches her nose to Tanaka’s right shoulder, communicating the only way a horse knows how. 

“Ah, my thanks.” Tanaka brings her left hand up to scratch under Kinmokusei’s jaw. She sighs when the barrier begins to screech, metal dragging on glass. “Guess I should get going before those seals break.” 

With one final pat to her muscular neck, Tanaka leaves the pasture, grabbing her pipe as she goes. As she gets closer she notices that his hakuda forms are sloppy, his movements wild and chaotic. Ribbons of his red and black reiatsu trail from his hands and feet, a far cry from the control he had been developing. Her brow furrows as she lets out a soft tsk. 

“Well then if you’re going to throw a tantrum, you can start running laps along the outer edge of the pit.”

She sits on the remnants of a fallen tree, absently lighting her pipe, and watches the sand slowly absorb his reiatsu. He reaches the double digits and his reiatsu finally begins to fade. Going from black fire covering his arms to mere flickers around his wrists. Ichigo stumbles and, for a moment, the feel of his reiatsu shifts.

Any trace of humanity swallowed by echoes of the blood-thirsty roar of a hollow. Like the flicker of a dying candle, She watches a bracelet of red fur and black claws on his fingers flicker in and out of existence like the flame of a dying candle, her stomach twists uncomfortably. 

“Alright, get your ass over here.” She stands, placing the pipe between her lips, and inhales. 

Ichigo makes it to the grass, bending over to brace his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He feels human now, the remanents drifting away like smoke in the breeze. The oil-slick of animalistic hunger no longer coats her tongue, she shakes off the emotion she refuses to acknowledge and exhales. 

“Welcome to lesson 3.”

“Obaasan- what- what the hell is that sand?” Ichigo gives up on staying upright, and collapses to lay flat on the ground. 

“I’ve mentioned sekiseki stone to you. Last week I believe, well, this entire valley sits on top of it. The soil blocks most of its effects. Sand does not.” She inhales, bites down on the stem, then exhales through her nose. She rolls her shoulders as she moves to stand at his shoulder. 

“That’s awful.”

“It is. But you need to know what it feels like. The Gotei have an entire tower built out of sekiseki, it’s used as shackles and collars to remove any possible threat posed by a prisoner.” She bends over staring into his eyes and lets a smile stretch across her face. “This sand pit is going to become your best friend. From here on out you’re going to train right here. You will start your day practicing your hakuda stances until you can’t keep on your feet. When I teach you how to wield a sword, you will do so in the sand.” 

Ichigo’s face blanches, his eyes wide in horror with the whisper of a no escaping past his lips. Tanaka straightens up, lifting her arms above her head in a stretch. 

“Now! It's been a couple of days since I took the time to spar with you. I think it’s time to see if you’ve gotten any better with your hakuda.” She walks over and places her pipe on the log, rolling up the sleeves of her plain tunic, before turning around. 

Ichigo had placed an arm over his eyes while her back was turned. She barks out a laugh when he groans in despair. The matter of his missing scars is a problem for another day, for now he needs to learn how to hide the monster in his soul. 

_I need to figure out how to teach him. What I wouldn't give to have my hellion here for this._

“Come on Ichigo! Get up!”

* * *

10 years later

* * *

The cart rattles beneath them, each bump jostling the wooden cart. Kinmosuki plods at a steady walk, confident in every step she takes as she pulls her charges down the well worn path. Her master and student are quiet, Ichigo taking in the forest around them and Tanaka content to enjoy the silence. She idly flicks her tail at an errant fly that lands on her flank. 

This is not the first time they have made this trip over the past decade, and most certainly won’t be the last, but she can’t help but wonder about the family her master was forced to leave behind. She misses the blonde one. Bright and inquisitive, hiding the bloodthirsty predator lurking just below the surface. His zanpaktou a masterpiece of precision, the fangs and claws tied to his waist. He drove her master crazy but they loved him like a son.

Like they now love Ichigo. 

She buries the despair before it can work its way past her teeth. It’s not fair what the soul king has condemned them to. They had not wanted what he offered them and- Well, there’s no use crying about the past. 

She brings them out of the forest into the flat grasslands, the village a distant speck on the horizon. No longer under the shaded canopy provided by the trees, they are hit with the full force of the midday sun. However, Ichigo perks up behind her regardless of how much longer it will take to get there. She huffs in amusement, he is growing alarmingly fast. Already, he is able to best her master in shunpo and nearly there in hakuda. Though, it was as if he was remembering the art of shunpo instead of learning it for the first time. The ability engraved into his bones. 

She lashes her tail from side to side, the air vibrating with Ichigo's excitement. Tanaka cuffs Ichigo across the back of his head, he yelps but then settles with a grumble and his reiatsu is reigned in once more.

It’s scary how powerful this boy is, her master may not say it aloud but they both know he is easily as powerful as a Captain and, ignoring his complete inability to use kido, as skilled as a Lieutenant. Her master believes it is the hollow aspects of his soul, she had compared it to trying to force a whale through a keyhole. She does and does not want to see what will happen when he receives an asauchi. 

Either way, he will be _terrifying_.

Kinmosuki’s mind returns to the present when her master gives a gentle pull of the reigns, they’re in the village. Her hooves guiding her even as her thoughts pulled her away. She takes them to the Inn and comes to a stop at the stables where she knows a soft bed of straw and a warm bucket of feed wait for her. 

“Ichigo, take care of Kinmosuki and the cart. I’ll take care of getting us rooms and then meet you back here for supper.” Her master calls as she walks towards the inn, having already jumped off the cart. 

Ichigo huffs, “Always foisting the chores onto me.”

She turns her head and watches him dismount, bumping his chest with her nose. He stumbles backward a step and laughs. 

“She’s a lazy old woman and you know it. Don’t ya’ flower.” 

She snorts, tossing her head before standing quietly as he disconnects her from the cart. Still, she shifts in impatience as he removes the harness, it’s been a long two days on the trail. He guides her into an open stall, the soft sounds of other horses drifting down the aisle of the barn. 

She tosses her head impatiently, ignoring Ichigo when he says something to her and yanking her head out of the bridle to drop her muzzle into the bucket of oats. He leaves after brushing the dirt and grime out of her coat, she hears his parting words but her food is far more important.

Besides, he will go to the woman he has become infatuated with. Well, it might be a woman. He seems to be fickle about these things. She lifts her head from the empty feed bucket and relishes in the fresh water in the trough at the back of the stall. 

Ultimately, what her humans do are of no concern to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just pull a 10 year time skip to avoid a training montage?  
> Yes.  
> Yes I did.  
> It also took me 3 tries to get something I was okay with.  
> Why? Because a lot of authors get stuck in training montages and it burns you out quicker than fire on dry leaves.  
>  _Kubo_ skipped through all of the training montages. All of them. We got snippets, and then learning while trying not to die.  
> I want to finish this fucking fic.  
> Will I do flashbacks? Yeah.  
> Also, Ichigo is bisexual and in- this is quite a bit before tbtp- old japan or hell anywhere 100+ years ago anything but straight was either ignored or you were publically humiliated and cast out.
> 
> Okay so final tidbit. I edited this on my phone. Haven't been able to look at my laptop outside of school work for a while. 
> 
> If you find anything please please dont hesitate to tell me. 
> 
> Y'all are the coolest and I appreciate your faces.


End file.
